


Prologue

by yxuraffectionatelaurens



Series: Out Of Student Loans and Treehouse Homes, We All Would Take The Ladder [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Beginnings, M/M, Pointless fluff, so much foreshadowing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 12:17:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7891993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yxuraffectionatelaurens/pseuds/yxuraffectionatelaurens





	Prologue

_-2_

_“Um… hi. I’m in your room. Hope that’s okay.”_

Alex draws up his legs onto the couch, tucking them in, ignoring the way the rain pounds against the window. He’s already drawn the curtains closed over the three windows, already tried to drown out the way the storm drags its chilling fingers up his spine. His hands are shaking, but that’s normal. He’s just a shaky guy.

In the video, John giggles. Alex holds his phone so close that the darkness of the apartment almost seems to be obsolete, a dark background on the artwork that is John Laurens smiling at an iPhone camera and giggling like he’s ten years old. 

John’s tongue is poking between his lips just slightly as he fiddles with the video settings, and goes quiet for a second. Then he’s beaming again, switching the camera so that Alex has a great view of his own bedroom. A wave of nostalgia, a wave of high school in Maryland, washes over him, and he listens to John laughing as he videos every square inch. 

He can’t see John’s face since the camera is facing the other way, but his voice is still clear as day. _“I was looking forward to calling you tonight, but I get it if you’re busy and stuff. Thought I’d give you a look at home. God, your fuckin’ precalc trophy from Johnson’s third period’s still in here.”_

John films the room, but his hand is shaking as he laughs, and the more Alex hears him laughing, the more his muscles relax. Things Alex left when he moved for college, things that he felt belonged in that room. No, it was more like, things that Belonged. If he’d left them, it would’ve felt wrong, like it wasn’t his room any more, like someone else should be in it now. Leaving the things that Belonged behind, he knew that he would always have a place at home that was his.

Alex is fairly sure there’s no sound more beautiful in the world than John’s laughter, and all the anxiety instilled by the storm begins to dissipate as John discovers a stack of old Playstation 3 and Wii games that’s sitting haphazardly on the edge of Alex’s desk. The top case is his battered, thoroughly loved copy of a Legend of Zelda game.

 _“Look at all this shit, ‘lex.”_ Alex hasn’t realized just how much he misses John until his hand comes into the video, picking up the Twilight Princess copy, sprinkled with freckles. Well, he’s missed him since John had boarded the plane for Maryland a week ago, but he’s been doing a fine job of dealing with it until now. But John’ll be home in a few days - he assures himself with a steady breath, trying to focus on John’s laughter as he digs through the stuff on top of his desk, which is a more painless solution to his anxiety than digging his nails into his palms like he usually does. _“Oh, hey, hold on.”_ Alex can practically hear him wearing a near luminescent grin.

John’s hand appears again, pushing open the door. The apartment doesn’t feel so lonely now, and Alex bites the sleeve of his sweatshirt through a chuckle, watching John lean out into the hallway. Nostalgia is still sucker punching him in the gut, but that’s fine, it’s fine. It’s actually a little strange to see John standing in that bedroom as the John Alex knows now, and not the gangly, quiet teenager often adorned with headphones and a sketchbook. 

_“Yo, George, say hello to Alex!”_ The video shows down the hallway to the upstairs loft, where the couches are occupied by Alex’s foster parents. They haven’t changed a bit since he moved out, George’s lesson plans spread out across the couch. Hamilton, the cat who shared his name, lounges lazily against George’s thigh as he hums and grades papers. 

Martha’s working on something - probably helping her husband sort his messy stack of assignments - as HGTV plays in the foreground, and that in itself is even more nostalgic than the image of John hanging in Alex’s doorway pointing an Android camera towards George and Martha.

They both wave - the TV light makes them look paler than usual, even though neither of them are very pale at all. Martha yells for John to tell Alex something about Christmas, but Alex doesn’t catch it.

The camera switches to John’s face again, lovely and laughing and lit up in the shit-eating grin Alex had just known he was wearing. _“You should’ve took the vacation days, Martha’s making pancakes tomorrow and y’all are stuck with whatever shit was left in the fridge when I left.”_

The door closes behind John and now he’s collapsing onto Alex’s bed, hair fanning out underneath him, adopting a slightly more serious smile. _“The forecast said there’s going to be thunderstorms up in NYC tonight, and, um… I miss you a lot, babe, even though I’ll be home really soon.”_

“You’d better be,” Alex says out loud to the darkness. It’s not like anyone can hear him, but it fills the silence a little, and he’s never been fond of silence.

 _“I, um…”_ An awkward pause where John gives a laugh that’s only somewhat there, just to gather his thoughts, followed by a tiny cough. _“Man, this bed’s really fucking soft. But yeah, I just wanted to check in and make sure you’re okay. And if not, then I’ll be home really soon, and we’ll work it out, okay? Do the counting thing like we practiced. Hang out with ‘liza. Go out and buy some ice cream, you know the drill. I love you so much, Alex.”_ He rolls over onto his stomach, looking at the camera. The smile he’s wearing is so genuine that Alex actually feels his heart flutter like he’s a hormonal teenager again.

 _“Also, tell Lafayette I’m bringing this back and he’s still never living it down.”_ John holds up a soft mess of colored fabric and Alex doesn’t even need to see it fully to know exactly what it is - and then he’s laughing, actually laughing, in the middle of a storm. God, he remembers when storms used to render him useless. Now, the rain is slowing to a stop, the radiator isn’t trying so hard, and the lights are blurring a little less outside. He can think again. John’s laughter is like medicine, except it doesn’t taste like off-brand cough syrup, and even from Maryland, Alex can feel him. 

_“That and his copy of Princess Bride. If we try to have a movie marathon and remember we don’t own it one more time, I’m suing. Okay, try to get some sleep, and don’t overwork yourself.”_

John presses a “kiss” to the camera, and then the video ends. Alex pulls off a slipper and tosses it unceremoniously in the direction of the light switch - when it hits it and the lights turn on, he feels successful. He decides if Jefferson has any complaints about the thumping sound, like he _always does_ , he can kiss Alex’s ass.


End file.
